


Deleted Tracks: Come Around In Time

by gilligankane



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-06
Updated: 2010-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana can't do this anymore. Neither can Brittany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deleted Tracks: Come Around In Time

Come Around – Rosi Golan  
 _ **But you’re the one** , you’re the one / And I’m a fool / For waiting so long to let you know_  
  
Santana  _can’t_  anymore. She can’t lie every time someone asks her what the hell she’s doing or what she  _isn’t_  doing. There are only so many times she will keep letting herself forget, when she reaches over, that Brittany isn’t there anymore. There are only so many time she’ll keep letting herself miss Brittany.  
  
She’s reached her limit and now she’s having trouble breathing and she can’t.  
  
She can’t keep fighting off the inevitable ( _even though she tried to, so hard_ ), she can’t keep pushing it off and so she surrenders to the heavy, crushing weight inside of her. She waits for the drop; for her entire body to sink into the earth so the dirt can swallow her whole, but it never comes. There’s a sinking feeling and then  _nothing_  until she realizes she feels lighter, like she’s floating, even if her lungs are still closed tight.  
  
Santana wonders if this is how Brittany feels  _all_  the time; giddy and weightless.  
  
Brittany’s house suddenly feels too far away and each step turns into a drift, like she’s a leaf at the mercy of the wind. Santana ends up at going the other way, the wrong way and she’s at the park before she can stop herself, swinging aimlessly and carelessly texting Brittany, asking her to come see her.  
  
She’s about to give up ( _her body is losing its buoyancy and she’s starting to sink further into the seat of the swing_ ) but suddenly Brittany is there and Santana can breathe again, deep, hard gulps that send the air back into her body. The swing rises and her legs straighten and she stands in front of Brittany, smiling even though Brittany isn’t.  
  
“What’s wrong with you?” Brittany asks, her eyes narrowed. Santana knows that face; Brittany isn’t any more amused with her right than she is when her cat reads her diary.  
  
She leans closer, ignoring that Brittany leans away. “Don’t you feel it?” she asks impatiently, searching Brittany’s eyes. She finds what she’s looking for, in the very corner of Brittany’s eye, in a place she’s never really looked before now. She finds Brittany’s hand and presses it against where her heart is. “Don’t you feel it?”  
  
Brittany pulls her hand away slowly and shakes her head. “What am I supposed to be feeling?”  
  
Santana smiles a little softer and steps closer so her toes brush against Brittany’s. “I can’t anymore,” she whispers.  
  
The frown on Brittany’s face deepens and Santana shakes her head. “No. I  _can’t_  lie anymore. Not to you. Not about you. Not the way I feel about you.”  
  
She sucks in a lungful of air and breathes out an  _”I love you”_  that’s swallowed as Brittany surges forward, pale hands winding through her hair, graceful dancer’s toes treading on her feet. She reaches up and finds Brittany’s hand.  
  
Their fingers lace together and Santana can breathe again.  
  
\---  
  
Time – The Kin  
 _Time, time goes by / The wars between us die / For all that’s passed us by / **We’re gonna believe in love**_  
  
Her phone beeps on her nightstand and Brittany only rolls over to answer it because there’s a chance it might be Artie, saying that he doesn’t hate her; that she’s not a bad a person; that he didn’t really mean the things he said. ( _She wants the second one most, because she’s never been called a ‘bad person’ in her entire life and it hurts_.) She sighs loudly when she reads that it’s only Santana.  
  
She thinks she might be done with Santana. It’s too much ( _like doing Hairography, but she can’t stop spinning_ ) and it obviously doesn’t hurt Santana the same way, because Santana hasn’t tried to talk to her since Brittany dismissed her in the hallway. She’d expected more. The last time she told Santana to get lost, the brunette had been  _everywhere_  she was; around every corner and behind every locker door she shut.  
  
If someone asked her, she would say that she didn’t miss Santana.  
  
If Santana asked her, Brittany would say that she didn’t miss her.  
  
If she asked herself, or her cat, she would say that she missed Santana more than she missed her tonsils when they were taken away from her in fourth grade.  
  
Brittany doesn’t answer the text message, but she does what it says and puts her right shoe on her left foot before she figures it out and leaves. She gets closer to the park and scans it, looking around towards the pond and the merry-go-round. She doesn’t check the swings the first few time she looks, because Santana doesn’t like the swings; hasn’t since Brittany challenged her to see who could jump off the highest and Santana lost.  
  
But she’s swinging there, grinning with a look that Brittany  _knows_  but has never seen in Santana’s eyes before. It doesn’t look wrong, Brittany decides, but it doesn’t look right either; it doesn’t look like it fits there, like it’s too big for Santana to really keep inside.  
  
Santana slows the swing down and stands up, coming closer, smiling that wide smile Brittany has seen only enough times to count on two hands and one foot. She leans in and Brittany leans away, frowning. “Don’t you feel it?” she asks. Brittany wants to say  _”no_ ” because she isn’t sure what she’s supposed to be feeling, but she feels something and that counts the same. Santana grabs her hand and brings it to her chest and Brittany feels her own heart flutter a little. Her hand just stays there, stuck to the hardest of the hard parts covering Santana’s chest and listens as Santana asks her again: “Don’t you feel it?”  
  
She takes her hand back slowly. “What am I supposed to be feeling?”  
  
Santana steps even closer, her feet skimming the tops of Brittany’s. “I can’t anymore,” she hears.  
  
Brittany frowns but Santana shakes her head so hard Brittany is afraid she’s going to shake it right off. “I  _can’t_  lie anymore. Not to you. Not about you. Not the way I feel about you.”  
  
Brittany barely hears the words  _”I love you”_  before she’s leaning in and kissing Santana harder and sweeter than she’s ever kissed her before. She feels Santana step on her toes and it hurts, but Santana kisses the pain away and reaches up to grab her hand, lacing their fingers together.  
  
She’s sure she might never be done with Santana.


End file.
